


19

by paperstorm



Series: IRL [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke celebrates his 19th birthday with his band, and a mini-surprise from Michael.</p>
            </blockquote>





	19

Luke has an awesome day. Their new song is out tomorrow and he’s so excited. Everyone is. The energy between the four of them is more electric than it’s been in a while. It feels like they’re a new band, like they’re entering into a new world. Luke can barely wait for all of it.   
   
They go out, at night. Luke still isn’t technically old enough to drink in the States but he wasn’t last year either, and neither are Michael and Calum, and that never stopped them. The thing about LA is that it’s more about who you are than the year you were born. It’s fun. It’s mostly just them, and a few of the friends they’ve made here, in a VIP room high above the floor of the club. Calum loves these places. Luke likes them now and then, about as much as Ashton, and Michael doesn’t like them at all but he still comes because it’s Luke’s birthday and Luke appreciates it. He says so, by touching Michael’s thigh under the table all night. He finds Michael in the bathroom at one point, pulls him into a stall and kisses him hard against the stall door.   
  
“We won’t stay too much longer,” he promises.   
   
Michael shakes his head and hugs Luke around the waist. “It’s okay. I’m having fun.”  
  
“I know you aren’t. But thank you for being here anyway. It wouldn’t have felt right without you.”  
  
Michael hums and kisses Luke again. “Love you. Happy birthday.”  
   
“Love you more,” Luke says, and then ducks out of the stall and the bathroom altogether before Michael had a chance to argue.   
   
Luke keeps his word and they don’t hang around all that much longer. They head back to the house they’re renting, just the four of them, and continue the party in their living room. Luke likes this better anyway, when it’s just his three brothers and a bottle of vodka passed between them, laughing and reminiscing and talking about all the amazing things that are going to happen this year.   
   
“Remember when Michael got hit by a fireball?” Calum jokes.   
  
“Stop, that wasn’t funny!” Luke whines, a little drunker than the others because people kept buying him birthday shots. He leans into Michael’s side and buries his face in his boyfriend’s neck. It was one of the worst nights of Luke’s life and he doesn’t like thinking about it. He hasn’t cried that much in years.  
  
“It was a little funny,” Michael argues, putting an arm over Luke’s shoulders and hugging him sideways.   
  
“It was awful,” Ashton agrees with Luke. “We were all really fuckin’ scared that you weren’t gonna be okay.”  
  
“Well I am okay, so now it’s funny,” Michael decides, having the last word on it like he so often does.   
   
“Did you have a good birthday?” Calum asks Luke, poking him in the side.   
   
Luke smiles against Michael’s warm, sweat-sticky skin. Michael sweats a lot when he drinks. “Yes. You guys are awesome.”  
   
“One year from today none of us will be teenagers anymore,” Ashton says.  
   
Luke whines again. “No, stop it. It’s going too fast. How do we slow it down?”  
   
“Time and tide waits for no man, sonny,” Ashton answers, in his grandfather voice.  
   
“Thanks, Uncle Ashton. That’s very helpful.” Michael hugs Luke a little tighter, and then adds, “I love you, but get off me. You’re a million degrees, and we’re banding. We can snuggle later.”  
   
Ashton and Calum both make stupid high pitched noises and kissy faces, lovingly mocking, and Luke does pry himself from Michael’s side but glares at his friends. “I take it back, you aren’t awesome. You’re all dicks.”  
   
“You  _like_  dicks,” Calum points out.  
   
Michael cracks up, laughing so hard he falls over and lies on the ground. Ashton laughs too, but has the decency to look apologetic about it unlike Luke’s jerk of a boyfriend.  
   
“Hey!” Luke cries, offended mostly on principle, and thinking he probably should at least defend himself since Michael clearly isn’t going to do it. “Not true. I like  _one_  dick, attached to  _one_  dude, who is currently throwing me under the bus instead of challenging you to a duel for insulting my honor.”  
   
“You like dicks, man, just accept it,” Michael tells him, pushing himself back upright and still giggling. “It isn’t a bad thing.”  
   
“Whatever! I hate all of you,” Luke states dramatically.  
   
“We love you!” Ashton yells, and then Calum is climbing on top of Luke and Ash and Michael follow suit, folding him into a ridiculous four-person cuddle on the floor where Luke is right at the bottom of the pile and somebody’s elbow is digging into his bladder.  
   
“This is nice,” Luke jokes dryly. “I’m glad we all feel comfortable enough to do this.”  
   
“You are the cuddliest one out of everyone so don’t act like you’re not enjoying it,” Michael says.  
   
“Do I have to remind you constantly that you’re  _supposed_  to be on my side?”  
   
“I am on your side.” Michael kisses Luke’s shoulder – or, somebody kisses Luke’s shoulder and he assumes it’s Michael, he can’t see because Ashton’s long curls are in his eyes.  
   
“Awwww,” Ashton and Calum coo sarcastically.  
   
Luke rolls his eyes and questions why he’s friends with any of them.  
   
Maybe a half hour later, Michael announces he’s going to sleep. Luke doesn’t want him to go, but he gets it. Michael just hits a wall, sometimes. It’s how he is. He loves hanging out with them, and then suddenly he doesn’t anymore and he needs to be alone. Luke’s always understood that. He makes Michael kiss him goodnight before he goes upstairs, slipping his tongue into Michael’s mouth for a moment and whispering  _I love you_ , ignoring the teasing from Cal and Ash.  
   
“Love you too,” Michael says. “Happy birthday.”  
   
“Thanks,” Luke smiles, and then Michael heads up the stairs and Luke really does understand his need for time alone but he misses Michael the moment he’s gone. He was sort of hoping there would be at least  _some_  sort of birthday sex tonight, even though Michael already sucked him off in the shower this morning. It’s alright, though. Luke knows they had a long day.  
   
“Why do you suddenly look like you just swallowed a sponge?” Calum asks.  
   
Luke shakes his head and tries to smile. “Nothing. What do you guys wanna do?”  
   
Calum and Ashton exchange a look, that annoyingly knowing one they share when they think Luke and Michael are being cute – or, more often, stupid.  
   
“What?” Luke asks warily.  
   
“You thought you were getting laid tonight,” Ashton informs him, as if it’s a fact.  
   
Luke blushes. “Fuck off. Fuck off and also shut up, and then fuck off one more time.”  
   
Ashton and Calum burst into giggles, and Luke just glares.  
   
“Whatever!” he snaps. “It’s fine. Whatever.”  
   
“You really think he’d leave you hanging on your  _birthday_?” Calum raises his eyebrows and gives Luke a meaningful look, and Luke sits up suddenly straighter on the floor.  
   
“What do you know?”  
   
“Nothing.”  
   
“Calum!”  
   
“You want us to ruin it?” Ashton asks.  
   
“Ruin  _what_?” Luke demands.  
   
“Dude, nothing!” Calum laughs. “He’s not up there like rigging up a sex swing or something, Christ. He just wanted you to think you weren’t getting any tonight. So you’d be surprised. I told him it was fuckin’ stupid.”  
   
Luke narrows his eyes, trying to work out if the truth is being told to him right now. “So what am I supposed to do, then?”  
   
“We’re supposed to distract you for like ten minutes.”  
   
Luke half laughs, half rolls his eyes. “Wow, you guys are really shit at keeping secrets. Remind me never to tell you anything personal and important.”  
   
“Like there’s anything we don’t already know about each other.” Ashton pours himself another shot and throws it back, his eyes shiny and cheeks flushed because he’s had too many already. “Besides, if it was like a  _real_  secret, something that mattered, you know we’d take it to the damn grave. Michael wanting to sex you up on your birthday is not an important secret. He wants to do that every day. Since before I even met you.”  
   
Luke blushes again, but somewhere underneath Ashton’s cavalier attitude toward very private things, his intentions are very sweet. Luke lets Calum change the subject but he isn’t paying attention to the conversation. His mind is upstairs with Michael, anticipation crawling with the alcohol through his veins. Eventually Calum’s phone buzzes, and he wrestles it out of his pocket and rolls his eyes as he reads the notification. Everyone’s eyes have rolled a lot tonight, Luke notices.  
   
“What?” he asks.  
   
“Now Ash and I are supposed to wish you a very happy birthday and say we’re heading to bed, so you have no choice but to stumble drunkenly upstairs to your room and be shocked out of your tree when Michael is already there.” Calum tosses Ashton another look, this one fond but exasperated. “This is the stupidest. He is stupid.”  
   
“Hey,” Luke protests, but weakly.  
   
“Okay, except we’re not going to bed actually because if you two are gonna be up there getting’ busy I don’t wanna lie there and listen to it.” Ashton gets up, and reaches a hand down to pull Calum to his feet as well. “To the hot-tub!”  
   
“Will you  _go_  already?” Calum shoos Luke away, so he listens. He gets up and takes off up the stairs, ignoring the obnoxious way Calum and Ashton are yelling after him to keep the volume down.  
   
Luke opens the door to his own room slowly, for some reason nervous even though he was told nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Michael is sitting on Luke’s bed, smiling shyly at him, fully naked except for a bright blue bow that would go on a wrapped present stuck to his forehead.  
   
“Oh my God,” Luke says.  
   
“Hi.”  
   
“What the hell are you doing?”  
   
Michael shrugs. “It’s your birthday. So you get me. Anything you want.”  
   
Luke presses his lips together and tries not to laugh, because it’s sweet, but it’s also the dorkiest thing Michael’s ever done. He closes the door behind himself and tugs his shirt off over his head before he makes his way to the bed.  
   
“What are you smiling about?” Michael asks, frowning.  
   
“Nothing. You’re …” Luke lets the sentence fall away when he notices something his eyes didn’t see at first. Next to Michael’s hip, there’s a small, clear bottle that Luke recognizes as the one he keeps in the drawer beside his bed. There are crumpled up tissues next to it, like Michael wiped something off his fingers and then left them there, too lazy to cross the room to the garbage bin. Luke’s brain slowly puts pieces together, the alcohol making it fuzzy; the things he can see fitting with the fact that Michael wanted a few minutes alone before Luke came upstairs.  
   
“Holy fuck,” Luke swears, eyes widening.  
   
Michael cocks his head to the side in question.  
   
“Did you …?” Luke asks, pointing at the lube.  
   
“Oh.” Michael blushes impressively deep and shrugs again. “Yeah. Thought, um. It would be. Like, if you wanted to fuck me. Then … I’d be ready.”  
   
All the blood in Luke’s entire body drains out of his limbs and his chest and his face and flies like a bullet train straight to his cock, so quickly Luke is instantly light-headed. He imagines it, Michael up here alone, spreading gel on his fingers and pushing them into himself, fucking himself, stretching himself out so Luke could just slide right in. It’s too much, Luke has to force himself to stop picturing it or he’s worried he might come on the spot and he isn’t even fully hard yet.  
   
“You okay?” Michael asks, smug about it, like he knows exactly what he just did to Luke.  
   
“ _Fuck_ , Michael,” Luke groans, stumbling to the bed and falling onto it, crawling up as quickly as he can into Michael’s lap. He pulls the plastic bow off Michael’s forehead and tosses it aside. Michael’s cock sits between them, full and swollen and leaving clear trails of precome against Michael’s stomach, and Luke swears for a third time and reaches down to brush the tips of his fingers over it. “So hard already.”  
   
He imagines Michael’s hand curled around his own stiff flesh, pumping slowly as he opened himself up with the other. He imagines the rounded pink crown slipping through Michael’s thick, pale fingers. It’s so hot it has Luke’s own cock straining against his tight jeans, trapped and uncomfortable.  
   
“Wanted to …” Michael trails off, his eyes fluttering closed and a gorgeous moan escaping his lips as Luke touches him. “ … just, be ready. For you to take whatever you want.”  
   
“What do you want?”  
   
Michael smiles, eyes still shut, and shakes his head. “Nope. That’s not how this works. It’s your birthday.”  
   
Luke tips forward and kisses him, cupping Michael’s face in both his hands and drawing his thumbs in slow arcs over Michael’s cheeks while he dips his tongue between Michael’s lips and they gasp for recycled air out of each other’s mouths. Michael’s arms come up, one wrapping around Luke’s back and the other hand tangling in his hair. He pulls Luke closer, pushing his thigh up between Luke’s legs and urging him to rock against it, to grind himself against the muscle. Luke does, even though the angle is bad and the friction it creates nowhere near what Luke needs right now. They’re both clean-shaven today because they’ve been filming things, but a few days ago kissing Michael was scratchy and rough when they both had scruff on their faces and Luke really liked it.  
   
“Are you waiting for me to tell you what to do?” Luke asks, breathless.  
   
Michael nods, smiling coyly, and Luke’s stomach clenches in a wave of arousal so strong it would knock him off his feet if he were still on them.  
   
“Touch me,” he tells Michael, his voice coming out husky.  
   
Michael runs his hands down Luke’s chest, thumbs brushing intentional over his nipples, and over his hips. He deftly pops the button on Luke’s jeans and drags the zipper down, purposely making as much contact with Luke’s trapped erection as he can. He reaches in once there’s room for his hand too, but it’s still such close quarters when he wraps his fingers around Luke’s cock and starts stroking. Luke loves Michael’s hands. When they were younger, he’d spend so much time watching Michael play his old acoustic guitar, watching his then-chubby fingers move over the strings, and daydream about what they’d feel like on Luke’s skin. Luke used to hate himself for it, back when it wasn’t something he was okay with fantasizing about. Now he’s unashamed.   
   
“Pull it out.”  
   
Michael does, carefully pushing Luke’s boxers down enough to get his cock out so he can stroke it properly.   
   
Luke kisses him again because he can’t resist. Michael is so beautiful underneath him, so exposed while Luke is still partly clothed, and Luke just wants to kiss every inch of him. He loves how Michael is guarded and insecure with everyone but Luke – the way Michael won’t even take his shirt off at the beach or in their own backyard, but with Luke he lets himself be bare and vulnerable. He trusts Luke.   
   
“I fucking love you,” Luke tells him, just in case Michael forgot.   
   
“I fucking love you back.” Michael twists his wrist so his palm slides over the head of Luke’s cock. He’s so turned on now there are blurred spots around the edges of his vision. “What do you want me to do?”  
   
Luke doesn’t answer for a moment; instead he kisses Michael’s cheek, the bridge of his nose, underneath his jaw. Then he whispers, “can I fuck you?”  
   
“Yes,” Michael whispers back.   
   
“Only if you want it.” Luke sucks gently at Michael’s jaw bone, leaving a faint mark. It will fade by tomorrow, but for tonight it’s proof that Michael belongs to him. “Not because it’s my birthday and I want it.”  
   
Michael shakes his head and smiles and Luke with sparkly eyes. “You’re sweet and stupid, and of course I want it.”  
   
“Kay." Luke swallows thickly, and tests his luck. “Wanna blow me a little first?”  
   
“Anything you want,” Michael reiterates, but Luke sees the way his eyes darken and hears the constriction in his throat. Michael likes doing that as much as Luke likes having him do it.   
   
“That’s what I want. So.” Luke lets it lie between them like a challenge, knowing Michael will take it, and Michael does.   
   
He smiles wickedly and flips them over in one smooth motion, getting Luke on his back. He tugs at Luke’s pants, kissing the bits of skin as they’re exposed. He crawls back up after he tosses Luke’s jeans and boxers behind himself to the floor, pressing kisses to the inside corners of Luke’s knees and licking along the insides of Luke’s thighs, where the skin is thin and sensitive. Luke shivers, and anticipates the warm, wet feeling that’s about to envelop him when Michael hovers over his cock, blowing a hot breath on it. Michael bypasses it all together, though, moving further up and kissing Luke’s stomach and chest.   
   
Luke groans in frustration, and Michael chuckles quietly. “You didn’t say I couldn’t tease you,” he murmurs into Luke’s skin.   
   
Luke hates it and loves it at the same time, confusing emotions jumbled inside him as Michael tortures him with his mouth. Michael nips at him and then sucks to smooth the sting, leaving little red marks on Luke’s fair skin.  
   
“Michael,” Luke sighs, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Michael’s soft, jet black hair. He arches up when Michael hits a ticklish spot over his ribs. “C’mon, please.”  
   
“Okay. It’s your show.”  
   
It so isn’t, though. Luke may be calling the shots on paper but in practice Michael is playing him like a violin.  
Finally Michael moves back down and finds Luke’s cock with his lips, hot and wet and soft against Luke’s aching flesh. Michael teases for just a moment longer and then slides his mouth over the head of Luke’s cock. He wastes no further time, sinking down as far as he can in one fluid motion and Luke doesn’t have the brain power left to be embarrassed about the broken whimper that spills from his lips.  
   
Michael moves slowly, the suction perfect and his tongue fluttering underneath on spots that make Luke squeeze his eyes shut and moan. Michael holds his hips down hard enough to leave bruises from his fingertips, humming around Luke’s cock, sending vibrations up his spine like a subwoofer, like the way Calum’s bass feels in Luke’s chest when the speakers are on loud enough to blow. It’s ecstasy, and Luke lays back and lets it overtake him until he can’t think about anything else, can’t feel anything but Michael’s mouth wrapped around him.  
   
“Fuck, you gotta stop,” Luke groans, when he can’t take it anymore and he’s  _just_  about to explode down Michael’s willing throat unless this ends.  
   
Michael pulls off him, the smack of his lips leaving Luke’s wet skin loud and filthy, and he buries his face in Luke’s hip, panting heavily, raggedly, like he can’t catch his breath.  
   
“Michael. Michael.” Luke reaches for him blindly, finds Michael’s hair and pulls gently, waits for Michael to haul himself back up so Luke can pull him down for a rough, bruising kiss. Michael lies against him, his erection hard and dripping against Luke’s stomach, and he fights for the strength to roll them over so Michael is underneath him again.  
   
Luke kisses Michael as he feels around next to the for the lube, finding it half underneath Michael’s back where he’d rolled on top of it and squished half of it out onto the bedsheets. Luke scoops up what he can in his fingers and spreads it over himself, hissing at the touch of his own fingers on his sensitive flesh. Michael lets his legs fall apart, making room for Luke between them.  
   
“Can I really?” Luke asks, praying Michael says yes. The last thing he wants is to have to stop the frenzy and prep Michael more, but he will if Michael says so.  
   
“Do it,” Michael urges, sounding as fucked out as Luke feels. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are bright red when Luke looks down at him.  
   
Luke nods and swallows, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he lines up and pushes himself in, in one slow, even thrust. Michael is loosened from his own fingers but still tight and Luke moans, his head dropping down to Michael’s shoulder as his cock is sheathed in snug, slippery warmth.  
   
“Luke.”  
   
“Are you okay?” Luke chokes out. “Please say yes, fuck, babe, feels so good.”  
   
“Move!” Michael snaps, as impatient as Luke is, and Luke pulls his hips back and throws them forward again, finding a brutal rhythm and not letting up. Michael goes wild beneath him, rocking back against Luke and whimpering in his ear and digging blunt fingernails into Luke’s back. Luke fucks him, harder than they usually go, and loves every second of it.  
   
“Don’t stop,” Michael rasps, and although Luke had no intention of it he teases anyway, because Michael did.  
   
He slows his thrusts to shallow rolls of his hips and kisses the tip of Michael’s nose. “Thought it was my show.”  
   
“Fuck,” Michael mutters. He rubs his hands over his face, clearly regretting his decision to put Luke in charge. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you wanna do. We can go slower.”  
   
Luke grins, pleased with himself because Michael is  _never_  submissive, and doesn’t take advantage of it. He could, but he doesn’t want to. He starts up again, fucking Michael deep and quick, and Michael’s lips find his in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongues than anything else. Luke’s head spins with it, his muscles quivering in the effort of holding himself up, until Michael pulls him down so they’re flush together, Michael’s cock rubbing between them as Luke grinds into him. Luke pushes inside and stays there, rotating his hips until he knows he finds the spot, the beautiful, broken noise Michael makes giving it away.  
   
“Right there,” Michael breathes. “Keep going.”  
   
“You wanna come?” Luke asks him, going for seductive but probably coming off even more desperate than Michael is. It isn’t untrue. Luke needs to come so badly his extremities are going numb.  
   
“If it’s okay.”  
   
Luke is confused for half a second, and then a fresh wave of arousal hits his as powerful as a wrecking ball when he realizes Michael’s been waiting for permission. “Oh my God,” he moans, pushing his face into Michael’s sweaty neck. “Fuck, yeah. Yes. Come for me, come on my fucking dick and nothing else, Michael, fuck. I want it, wanna feel it.”  
   
Like a switch that needed to be flipped this whole time, Michael does, on command. He shudders and grunts softly and his muscles flutter around Luke’s cock, squeezing him tight and releasing in random patterns that make Luke see stars. He slicks the space between them, his cock twitching against Luke’s abdomen, his fingers so tight in Luke’s hair. Luke swears and starts moving again, fucking into Michael’s motionless body until the pleasure overwhelms him too and he comes with Michael’s name on his lips and Michael’s arms holding tight around his back.  
   
“Happy birthday,” Michael whispers to him, minutes or maybe days later when they remember how to move. He kisses Luke’s cheek messily, mouths at it in an uncoordinated way.  
   
Luke chuckles, feels amazing and warm and sedated, and rolls off Michael just long enough to let his cock slip from Michael’s ass and then pulls him back in, not caring about the mess on their stomachs. That’s future-Luke’s problem. Michael nuzzles into him, always needy for contact after sex, and Luke loves that. He hooks his arms around Michael and holds him close. “Thank you. It was a really good day.”  
   
“Tomorrow’s gonna be better.”  
   
“I can’t wait,” Luke says honestly, in a whisper like it’s a secret even though it isn’t. “I hope people like it.”  
   
“They will.”  
   
“This was awesome.” Luke reaches underneath himself and manages to tug the sheets up over them, so they can just fall asleep like this.  
   
Michael hums in agreement, and lets Luke cuddle him like a teddy bear. “We’re gonna be sticky tomorrow.”  
   
“Do you care?”  
   
“Nope. You?”  
   
“Not one bit.”  
   
“I love you, douchebag.”  
   
“Hey,” Luke chuckles. “It’s my birthday.”  
   
“No it isn’t.” Michael lifts an arm and points in the direction of the digital alarm clock on the side-table. The red numbers read 12:01.  
   
“My birthday’s been over for one minute and I’m back to douchebag?”  
   
“It’s all part of my charm,” Michael says, around a huge yawn that triggers Luke’s own yawn reflex. “Now shush. I’m trying to sleep. Some asshole fucked all the bones out of my body.”  
   
Luke laughs again and kisses Michael’s hair. “Okay. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
